Текст песни: 6 Minutes of Death + перевод

Millz break the block down from A to Z

I could supply you with work, little nigga, I’m like a temp agency

I’m in the kitchen, wood chair with the feet broke

Soft white got the table looking like a ski slope

Fuck going out, me and my money elope

And most niggas rap about money but they be broke

My man went to Morehouse and had strong blow

So I had him pitching in Atlanta like John Smoltz

Nigga, money make the world go round

And a stack of it’ll make a nigga girl go down, clown

Patron and Grey Goose get the bitch loose

And after the crew, I’ll have her licking on her sis, too

We getting money where I’m from, nigga (Harlem!)

We getting tired of your chick, tell her pack her shit

Come and get her, put her onto some shit, and get her grind right

Get her mind right, fatten the ass and get her spine tight

I’m the flyest

Most niggas want a deal with Nike

I’m like, dumb nigga, I’m tryna buy it

I need percentages, I don’t care who the hottest

Little nigga, I think big like Christopher Wallace

And I won’t stop until my grandkids' grandkids sitting on dollars

And I ain’t even a father, nigga, call me Your Majesty

Young, black and fly

And when it come to dough I got a Jewish mentality

Little fuck niggas still trying to battle me

I go in their mouth like I’m a dentist looking for cavities

I don’t know why your mans hyped you with that battery

I’ll hit your whole team with caps, and I don’t mean salaries, nigga

Already got dough, now I’m chasing the power

I’m the statue, stand tall cause I’m replacing the Towers

And these niggas washed up now, they faces is sour

Mad cause they broke and lonely and I’m making them dollars

With enough divas to spread out to ten cities

I can throw assists all night like I’m M. Bibby

Harlem got a fucking reason to front now

Uptown, let’s go, we got a reason to stunt now

I told Joey and Stack shit ain’t intact

Captains lost our city now we gotta get it back

Nigga, you can take it how you wanna

But ain’t nothing impress me for the last three summers

I don’t give a fuck how disrespected you may feel

Nigga, see me when you see me

It’s whatever, it’s Jae Millz, motherfucker

Nigga, the booth feel better when real 'round it

Still round it, dress square but a nigga well rounded

Grounded like I came home late on my curfew

And proved I was better than most niggas my first two

Lil' years in the mixtape league

Now it’s bidding war time, I got a Bloomberg league

So the hood’s overwhelmed

They know it’s the voice of the hustle

Whenever they hear son up at the helm

Son give 'em hell like Daniel in The Advocate

The fans fiending for it, they got the addict itch

That’s the bundles, put it all in your nose

These niggas is lil' me’s, hear it all in their flows

Ho’s, that’s a topic you don’t even wanna touch on

I face-fuck the ones you couldn’t touch on

Hand brushed on see the denim, know what these 'bout

The Antik’s, Red Monkey’s, or Vi’s out

Y’all bring the V’s out, I can even splurge

GT’s wasn’t me so I’m leaning towards the Spurs

Leaning towards the furs a lil' more to my nature

Mink, coyote, fox all in the nature

I get it in blocks I’m the Seymour Cake-ster

I give it on the arm, you can get it from me

Cause if prices was any cheaper y’all be sellin' it for free

Paid 2−3 sell it for 2−2-5

McDonald’s is making more for profit off Super Size

I spit the truth inside, niggas wrote the fake shit

These niggas practicing snitching, y’all on some jake shit

Millz spoke on it, I agree with him

Can’t even spar with niggas, what’s the reason for a gym

Ain’t hot enough to even work up a sweat

I been fire since Wu days with The Purple Cassette

So when you mention my name these niggas get offended

No chain on, just a five star pendant

General of that Riot so Squadddd Up

Feeling real prestigious hopping out that Porsche truck

I’m on top of my game and still climbing

They’re not fucking with him, can’t even peel off his hymen

It’s the nigga with the mask on that would yack dude for jewels

Ain’t gotta say it, that dude the truth, make me put that tool to use

And these niggas that be in the game shakin like Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf

Not Tourrette’s, gotta rep my team to the end

Lambos to Ferraris to the Beamers to the Benz

If I blam it’ll kill, never ran never will

Only thing that bleed on me is these jeans on my Timbs

Hat low, it’s not a weak link in my squad

I’m LL, in too deep, I’m thinking I’m God

Far as rappers, I’m thinking they’re frauds

Call 'em all Rubix Cubescause I really used to think they was hard

Ha! For once trust me, you don’t wanna start problems

The pound will make you Eddie Curry with a heart problem

So if you on the block with only a few grams, man

Then you a bird nigga, Toucan Sam

And any beat, I’mma air that, rappers just gotta wear that

Fox Brown should be the only one that can’t hear that

Hit you in the spine or the belly, gun on me

I ain’t Sticky Fingaz, I ain’t leave mine in the telly, smell me?

Thank god he ain’t fucking wit that red line

Cause I’ll murk any nigga that disrespect mine

If it wasn’t Fed time, or lock up or rec time

Dude’ll be a Daily News headline

You ain’t the best, what memo got sent?

If you got dogs, what kennel they in?

So if you wanna get fresh like a Mentos mint

Then it’ll tempt those men with clips longer than Leno’s chin

There ain’t no type guts wit you

You Terrell Owens, them niggas that wear eagles

They don’t even wanna fuck with you

Me, fam? I was pimping weed dirt

Back when niggas used to rock Simpsons t-shirts

I’ll give it to any nigga, I mean any nigga

Big man or skinny nigga, dare a dude tempt me, nigga

Auto or semi, nigga; dump till it’s empty, nigga

They don’t even want you in New York -- you like Penny, nigga

Check the time -- it’s around that hour

Little niggas, they ain’t 'round that powder

They ain’t super or Luigi or Mario, ain’t found that power

Plus they couldn’t spit fire if they found that flower

Cowards, know the toys bust loco

While they trying to dap my hand like the Boy’s Club logo

And yea that 5 slide and clock

I’m the million dollar baby, but I won’t die trying to box

Don’t want a piece of the cake, I won’t the pie and all

I don’t believe 'em when they say that they supplying the raw

You don’t move white, you lying, dog

That’s a never-ending story without the white flying dog

Son, these dudes is broke, don’t know the feeling of bread

They in debt, tampon niggas, still in the red

And the fans keep asking if ya man stopped beefing

I call 'em Mr. Fantastic, tell 'em, «Stop reaching»

Ah-ha, stop reaching!

Killa BH, son!

I’m ready to rock

Yo, ah-ha

When I come through, I’m like… a something

I can’t remember

I’m that nice

Like the spice

Ah-ha

I can’t even spit right